Holly Hart Cozy Mysteries Books 1-6 (EBOOK)

Check your email for a download link from Bookfunnel. Click on the link to download your ebook.

Send the ebook to your favorite reading device or read on the free Bookfunnel app.

Footprints in the Frosting Book 1

Chapter 1

Something was wrong.

Early morning light trickled through Holly’s cozy apartment, and she desperately tried to hold onto the fragments of a good dream. Her scalp prickled, a tingling that spread down her neck. She startled awake.

With narrowed eyes, she studied her small room, filled with flea market finds. The antique dresser barely fit, but Holly fell in love at first sight with the blue paint, chipped enough to reveal the white underneath. So what if there wasn’t enough space in the tiny room for anything else? When she first saw this apartment, directly across from her new business, Just Cheesecake—she couldn’t turn it down.

Her gaze flitted about the room as she tried to figure out what felt wrong. The tiny doggy bed next to hers was empty. Muffins!

No wet nose nudged her awake this morning. She let out a huff of frustration. That dog! Ever since she’d left home to strike out on her own, that cute, tiny, mangled ball of fur had transformed from obedient-watchdog-with-a-sixth-sense-for-danger to runaway-train-wreck at every opportunity.

Quickly, Holly wrapped her pink and black polka-dotted robe around her latest purchase of cotton pajamas, the top and bottoms covered with tiny frogs. In the store, when she’d looked closely, the googly eyes and pink tongues won her over. Plus, she’d wanted to invest in the local economy of her new hometown.

“Muffins!” She called for him several times while searching her apartment, which didn’t take long. He wasn’t under the bed or in the bathroom or waiting by the door to be let out. “Muffins!” She hoped he’d magically appear. “Bad dog,” she muttered.

In the kitchen/living room, she stopped short. The door to her apartment hung open a crack. Her keys hung on a hook in the wall. She’d stumbled in late the night before and never locked up. She must not have even shut the door all the way! Early morning air seeped through.

She raced to the large window by her table-for-two—another flea market find. He wasn’t anywhere to be found. Holly searched across the street and saw a flash of gray.

“Muffins!”

It was still early, probably not even six a.m. She could dash across the street, catch her little runaway, and be back before anyone noticed. Her grand opening was at nine.

Her grand opening!

She smacked her forehead. How could she forget? That had been part of her dream, tons of customers and cheesecake flying from the shop as if it had wings.

Without hesitating, she slipped into her flip-flops—a little chilly for this early in May—and ran onto her small deck, down the wooden steps to the dirt driveway. She shared the tiny parking space with other tenants. Not many cars were on the road this time of day, so she sprinted across the street.

After several minutes peeking behind and under the few cars parked in the small lot, Holly stood with her hands on her hips. He was nowhere. Out of breath and feeling frazzled, she plopped down on a stone bench. That dog! Several evil thoughts passed through her mind about what she should do to him, but she immediately dismissed them. Muffins was her one link to her parents. Regardless of his recent bad behavior, she had a soft spot for him.

Letting the cool morning air calm her down, she couldn’t stop the giddy feeling or the smile at the sight of her shop. The large red and yellow banner above the entrance screamed Grand Opening. She’d worked hard for several weeks, preparing for today. Her shop was nestled between a charming restaurant, Oodles, and a touristy gift store, Gotcha. Perfect. She’d hopefully get lots of foot traffic. Especially since she’d signed a contract with the restaurant to provide the cheesecake they offered on their menu.

Her thoughts wandered to the competing bakery a little ways down the street. She bit her lip. Hopefully, the owners were reasonable, and they wouldn’t hold a grudge. A little competition was healthy for everyone.

Or it would put her out of business before her business venture had a chance.

“Hello, there. Are you lost?”

She stiffened, remembering she was still in pajamas. Heat from a blush spread rapidly across her cheeks. She looked up to find what most women would consider to be an incredibly good-looking man. Chestnut hair fell in soft waves around a classic handsome face. His ruddy complexion gave him the appearance of youth, but she figured him to be at least a few years older than her twenty-two years. In her previous life—the one she’d escaped—she’d had enough of suave, handsome men to know they couldn’t all be trusted. And this guy fit the bill. From the manicured nails to the pressed suit and tie.

“I happen to know exactly where I am.” She stood, hoping to gain a little dignity, but he still towered over her by a foot.

He smiled, cautious but friendly. “That’s good to know. I was just making sure.” He stuck out his hand while studying her attire. “The name’s Mason.”

She forced a laugh and shook his hand. “I’m Holly, and I don’t normally parade around in my PJs, but my dog escaped.”

“Maybe he craved a cup of coffee. Shall we go see?”

She laughed. “Sure.” Mustering every ounce of dignity required to strut about in PJs, she walked with him across the parking lot and into Oodles. Her mother would absolutely fall over in a faint if she could see Holly, undignified and dressed in nightclothes.

Inside, the smell of dark brews and breakfast greeted her. Would Muffins have ducked through when someone opened the door? “See a tiny gray dog with mischief stamped all over him?”

Mason looked about as if he owned the place. “Nope. But let’s get some coffee. We’ll keep an eye out.”

They walked to the counter. As they passed the community bulletin board, Holly noticed again, the invitation to a murder mystery book club. As soon as she had time, she’d grab the phone number.

“We’re getting stared at,” Mason said. “Do I have toothpaste on my tie? Did I forget to tame my bed head?”

She laughed. “Oh no, it’s me. Look at me.”

He stepped back and sized her up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He smiled. “I thought frogs were trending in women’s clothing.”

“Right. Let’s order and get out of here.”

Holly ordered a medium coffee with a vanilla swirl and sugar. Mason asked for a mocha and a Danish.

He pointed to a small table. “Shall we?”

Hmm. This was turning into more of what seemed like a date. She slid into a seat. “Everyone’s looking at me. Maybe I should leave?”

He sipped from his to-go cup. “Nah, you’re with me. No one will say a thing.”

“A little cocky, aren’t we?” She knew his type, and even though so far he’d been nice, it was only a matter of time before his true colors showed.

He lowered his head in humility. “Some might think so but I hope you’ll get to know me before judging me by the clothes I wear or the size of my house.”

His words softened her heart. She knew what that was like too. People assumed she was snooty because of where she used to live. No one would think that of her now, not in this little town and not with her tiny apartment and her cutesy pajamas. She smiled. “How do you know I already don’t know you?”

“This town’s pretty small. I know a new face when I see one. Have you met many people so far?”

She sighed. “Not really. I’ve been so busy settling into my apartment and preparing for the grand opening, I haven’t really had a chance.”

“Oh. So Just Cheesecake is yours?”

“Yup. You’ll stop in later, right?” At least she’d have one customer.

“Definitely. I’m in town early for business. But I’m glad I came or I wouldn’t have bumped into you.”

Holly hid her blush behind her cup and quickly changed the subject. “Why don’t you tell me about some of the people to watch out for then.”

He nodded toward a man with a long Santa Claus beard. “That guy over there is the worst. Definitely trouble.”

“Why?” she whispered, leaning over.

He glanced right and left and leaned so their faces were inches apart. “I’m kidding. He’s my family’s lawyer, and he’s the jolly old man he looks like. In fact, he might really be Santa Claus. He’s probably waiting for me.”

She sat back, acting disgruntled, but she couldn’t fake it for long. “Anyone else?”

He offered a weak smile. “I’m probably not the right person to ask. Most seem to shy away from me.”

Holly nodded, flashing back to her years of living in her parents’ influential neighborhood. There always seemed to be a wall between her and everyone else. Developing friendships took longer than usual.

The door opened with a whoosh. An older lady clomped inside. Her graying brown hair looked like it hadn’t been combed. Her yellow rubbers reached to her knees like a storm was about to blow through any minute. “Who’s that?”

“That’s Charlene, the crazy cat lady.”

Holly watched with interest as Charlene tacked a piece of paper to the board and then clomped back out. “She seems like a no-nonsense kind of person.” Holly already liked her. She could use honesty in her life. No more lies and deceit.

“You could say that.” He tapped his watch. “Not sure how much longer Santa’s going to wait.” He stood. “Nice meeting you, Holly.”

“You too.”


* * *

Outside, almost forgetting about her PJs, Holly saw a flash of gray dash into her shop. Muffins? Her shop should be closed and locked. That was odd.

Ignoring the curious looks, she walked across the more crowded parking lot and peered into the window. The insides lay in darkness. In a few short hours, hopefully, the place would be busting with business. At least Mason promised to stop by, her one and only friend so far in the town of Fairview.

After a moment of hesitation, shocked at the broken lock on the door, she pushed it open and stepped inside. She tried to ignore the growing sense of dread. The place seemed empty. Quiet. Normally, the black and white tiled floor and retro tables and the counter with the glass showcase below brought her peace and satisfaction.

Muffins whimpered from the kitchen.

The same sense that wakened her from sleep this morning, returned. She crept across the floor and stopped in the doorway to the kitchen. Pawprints trailed across the tiles. She reached over and pressed her fingers against it. The creamy texture felt familiar. She sniffed it. Frosting. Her buttercream frosting she made for her special deluxe cheesecake. Triple the sweetness.

How had Muffins gotten it on his feet?

She flicked on the light. His prints in the frosting led to the back corner, where he sat whimpering. Next to him laid a body, facedown in one of her deluxe cheesecakes.

The room blurred. A body in her kitchen? Frosting all over the floor. A squeamish feeling churned in her gut. Immediate compassion for this man flooded her. Who was he? Was he a sugar-addict who broke in for his latest fix and tripped? She stifled a giggle. That would make for a rather humorous headline. But then she looked at the odd way his body was splayed across the floor, and the way his limbs lay still, and how he would never be able to breathe with cheesecake in his nostrils.


Was it…could it possibly be…murder?


She stumbled back out of the kitchen, trying to erase the image of the body, unmoving and lifeless, and her cheesecake all over the floor. She needed to find help. At the front door she stopped. “Muffins!” That dog. 


Feeling guilty—and she didn’t even know why—she crept back to her kitchen. “Muffins!” she hissed. “Come here.”


Muffins scratched his nose and whimpered. He placed a paw on the body. Almost as if he was protecting it. A little too late for that.


Holly tried a different tactic. “Come on, Muffins. Time for breakfast.” She crouched. “You can have one of my cheesecake muffins.” She continued to tease him with the foods he loved. Treats she normally refused to give him. “Be a good boy and you can have a treat every day for the rest of the week.”


Muffins stared back at her, his eyes questioning, almost as if pleading with her to take action. What in the world did he expect her to do? Solve the murder and apprehend the murderer within the span of minutes while he guarded the body?


Enough. Swallowing the guilt lodged in her throat for possibly disturbing the crime scene, she tiptoed across the kitchen floor. That thought hit her hard. A dead body. In her kitchen. Ignoring that disturbing thought for the moment, Holly stepped over the body, cringing, then she picked up Muffins. “Oh, you bad dog. What am I going to do with you?”


Holly had moved to this quiet town wanting peace and quiet and the busy life of owning and operating a small business. This was the last thing she expected. With Muffins nestled in her arms, his warm body comforting her, she nuzzled her face against him. He whimpered again. 


“I know,” Holly whispered. “We have to tell someone. But who?” 


Since she’d first dashed across the street, the parking lot had filled considerably. Her legs wobbly, she stumbled back into Oodles and stood in the doorway, confused. Images of the body flashed through her mind. She swayed while searching the shop. Mason sat in a corner booth with his family lawyer. Everyone else, she didn’t know. 


Someone bumped into her. Holly barely acknowledged it, a bit too shocked at the murder scene in her kitchen. 


“What’s wrong with you?” a crackly, raspy voice spoke next to her. “You’re as white as the sheets on my bed.”


“A body,” Holly whispered.


“What’s that you said? I’m sloppy?” 


Holly snapped out of the shock to look at the woman next to her. It was the same woman with the yellow rubbers who’d stomped in here earlier. There was a sparkle of life in her eyes and a rosy flush to her cheeks. Her appearance was plain and simple, but something Holly admired. She’d had enough of snooty dressing to last a lifetime. 


“You’re a fine one to comment on my sloppy way of dressing. Who cares if I like to dress for comfort?” She clutched the sleeve of her flannel shirt. “This here is the softest flannel around. Humph.” 


“What are you talking about?” Holly asked, bothered that she’d offended this lady. “Aren’t you Charlene?” Mason had called her the crazy cat lady.


“Oh great. Just terrific.” Charlene rolled her eyes. “I don’t even get a chance to introduce myself and someone’s already shared the juicy gossip.”


“Well, I wouldn’t—”


“What’d they say?” Charlene stuck her face close enough that Holly could see the fine laugh lines around the woman’s eyes. “That I’m crazy? That I run around town talking to myself in the middle of the night? That I collect cats like people collect coffee mugs? Well, that just figures you’d believe them before giving me a chance. But don’t worry. Old Charlene is used to it.” She smoothed her flyaway hair, her eyes studying Holly. “Just remember that I’m not the one wearing my pajamas around town. Be careful or rumors will spread about you too.”


At that moment, Holly could care less about her pajamas. Okay, well, maybe a little. “First of all, I said body not sloppy, and second, I only heard about the cats.” Holly wisely chose to leave out anything about crazy. 


Charlene didn’t stop. “If you’d lost your husband, and then your only son moved out, you’d want some company. You might take in stray cats to chat with late at night. You might be called crazy too.” She narrowed in on Muffins and rubbed his head. “Cute little thing. Needs a bath though.”


“Never mind.” Holly sighed. 


Charlene seemed to hear only what she wanted to hear. Maybe Mason would help. She hated to interrupt what was probably a business meeting.


“Wait a second.” Charlene’s arm flew out and dragged Holly back. Her gaze darted between the customers in the cafe. “Did you say something about a body?”


Holly nodded.


Charlene dragged her to the closest table and practically forced her into the chair, then she sat in the opposite one and leaned in, her gaze intense and curious. “Tell me everything. Why’d you do it? Was it a crime of passion? A lover cheating on you?”


“What? No!” Holly hugged Muffins closer. 


“How about revenge, then? How long have you been planning it? You can trust me.” When Holly didn’t answer, Charlene rambled on. “Or maybe your past followed you here. You ran away to a small town to hide out and someone found you.”


Holly gulped at how close Charlene came to the truth about her running away.


“This isn’t your first brush with death, is it?” Charlene leaned back and glanced out the large window into the parking lot. “I can tell these things. I see it in your eyes.”


“You do not!”


“Yup.” Charlene tapped her head. “Old Charlene knows these types of things. Too bad you dragged an innocent animal in on this.”


“Muffins had nothing to do with it.” 


“Ha!” Charlene pointed a knobby finger. “So you admit it?”


“No!” Holly almost shouted.


Charlene shook her head. “Tsk. Tsk. Getting flustered. Red face. Escalating anger. All signs of guilt.”


Holly stood, the anger burning bright now. “I’ve done nothing of the sort. I came over after finding a body in my kitchen to ask for a phone to call the police. I left mine back in my apartment when Muffins went missing this morning. All you’ve done is misunderstand me and throw around false accusations like you’re some sort of detective. Maybe you should turn up your hearing aid.”


“Found a body, you say?” Charlene stared, triumph on her face, and for the first time, she didn’t ramble.


Holly’s back prickled as the door to the cafe closed behind her. A glance at the tables revealed that her outburst had drawn an audience. Mason and his lawyer stared. A couple of old ladies fanned their faces with their hands, murmuring. The barista stood at the espresso machine, the hot liquid spilling over on the floor. 


“Or did you murder your past lover and plan to discover the body and stumble in here all innocent?”


“Okay, that’s enough.” A deep voice spoke behind her.


Holly whirled around to find a cop, his keen eyes piercing her, suspicion floating around him like a cloud. He was only a few inches taller than her, but the air of authority he carried with the uniform and the gun strapped onto his belt made him feel five feet taller than her. She visibly jerked at the sight of him, dislike growing inside her. Not every cop was trustworthy. She backed up.


“Where do you think you’re going?” Charlene asked when Holly bumped into her. “Trying to escape? I thought you might. That’s when I called Trent.”


“I said, that’s enough,” the cop practically growled. “You said something about finding a body?”


The murmurs and whispers escalated. All of a sudden Oodles felt about a hundred degrees warmer. Charlene had called the cop? The pieces fit together. The old woman had rambled on, forced her to sit, and wasted time with her made-up theories all to keep Holly here while the cop zipped over, probably from his morning donut fest. Holly had fallen for it like a six-year-old sitting on Santa’s lap at the mall.


“Yes, I did.” 


Some of the customers gathered around, curious and whispering. 


Trent, the cop, leaned close. “Why don’t you show me this body?”


Holly gulped, glancing at her clothing. Frosting lined the edge of her right flip-flop. She must’ve stepped right into the evidence when she picked up Muffins. That dog! Silently, she took back the part about offering him extra treats. 


“Amateurs.” Charlene huffed. “Always making stupid mistakes. Leaving evidence behind...or wearing it.”


Holly brought Muffins closer to her chest. This didn’t look good for her. At all.


FOOTPRINTS IN THE FROSTING (Book 1)

Murder, cheesecake, and a side of sass – meet Holly Hart!

She's all set to open her dream cheesecake shop in a new town, but when a murder takes the spotlight, she's accused.

With her opening day on hold, Holly turns detective, facing off with the local heartthrob cop.

Can she clear her name, save her business, and catch the real killer?

Join Holly and her four-legged partner Muffins in this sweet suspense tale – because nothing's as dangerous as a murder on the menu.


DEADLY INDEPENDENCE (Book 2)

Summer celebrations, fireworks, and... murder?

Holly knows one thing. The Fourth of July is supposed to be cookouts and celebrations and fireworks. Not racing around to compete with another bakery that uses over-the-top gimmicks. Not dodging stray fireworks.

And definitely not murder.

With the help of her friends, and her dog, Muffins, Holly attempts to sneak in some sweet revenge on her nemesis and solve the murder.

Holly realizes she might have made a mistake by hiding her plans from the handsome hot cop, when she comes face to face with the killer.

FROSTED ON THE FERRIS WHEEL (Book 3)

It’s summertime but not everyone is having a vacation.

Someone in the community is murdered.
Drowned in a bath of cement.
During the town carnival.

Holly and the gang dive into the investigation, except how is Holly supposed to focus on clues when she sees Trent on what appears to be a date with her nemesis, Millicent?

And then, after their sleuthing attempts fail big time, even with their tricky undercover operation, Holly is desperate.

She turns to the one person who aggravates her the most. Millicent and a Great Dane with social anxiety might be Holly’s only hope when she goes off the grid.

Who’s next on the list to cool off with a deadly dip?


FRUITCAKE AND FOUL PLAY (Book 4)

No one expects to find a body under the Christmas tree.

That’s exactly what happens when Holly shops for a Christmas tree at the Wixler Farm. And then the body disappears.

All traces vanish under the falling snow.

Everyone at the farm and the intruding neighbor are hiding secrets. What does a stolen fruitcake recipe have to do with it? And is it even important?

Holly and Millicent go undercover, attempting to escape the watchful eyes of their boyfriends.

It isn’t all ho, ho, ho and hot chocolate when they track down the killer...


POISON IN THE PASTRY (Book 5)

Three famous mystery authors visit Holly’s town...one of them never leaves.

While sleuthing, Holly juggles her relationship with Trent and good old-fashioned blackmail. Yes, blackmail.

Millicent dug into Holly’s secretive past and has a long list of demands.

Holly worries her past will be exposed and her cover blown. She gives in to Millicent’s random demands, even heading undercover on a rogue investigation.

But then, Millicent goes too far and demands Holly break up with Trent.

More secrets simmer beneath the surface than just the authors’ pen names. When Millicent lands in jail, Holly faces the moral decision of helping her frenemy or celebrating.

Behind it all, someone’s playing twisted games.


CATERED TO DEATH (Book 6)

Catering a party leads to...murder.

Life is smooth sailing for Holly Hart until she wakes one morning and spots someone from her past lurking outside Just Cheesecake. Why is her childhood friend-turned-enemy in town? No one is supposed to know where she lives.

Supposedly, he just happened to hear about this new cheesecake shop and wants her business to cater a family party. Suspicious indeed. Especially when he’s been spreading lies about Holly’s family back in her hometown.

She sneaks back to her parent’s home and finds a body in the living room. Almost as if someone is framing her family for murder.

Holly has to figure out how to reveal the real killer.

If he doesn’t get to her first...


PIE CRUST AND PERIL (Book 7)

This won’t be the last time Holly’s passion for cheesecake leads to... murder.

Holly Hart moves back to her hometown into a new apartment to be with the love of her life, her fiancé.

Except, everything goes wrong.

Trent acts distant. Attempts to start up a new cheesecake shop fail. Really, only trying to solve another murder could make things worse.

Of course, that’s what happens. She discovers a body.

She wonders how and if everything is connected. Why is Trent so distant and distracted? Why is the top detective convinced Holly is guilty and should top the suspect list?

Holly will need the help of old friends, because everything about her new life is about to fall apart.

Will she solve this latest murder before anything else goes wrong?


LEMON MERINGUE AND MURDER (Book 8)

Holly Hart is desperate.

Her back is against the wall. Plans for a thriving cheesecake shop have failed. Her swoony relationship with the hot chief of police barely exists.

Then, she takes on a catering job that changes everything. She finds a body. In the kitchen. A piece of lemon meringue pie on the floor.

This is not what she wanted, not with her and Trent teetering on the edge of a break-up.

An obnoxious reporter, looking for clicks, suggests she is a top suspect, because Lemon Meringue & Murder makes a catchy headline. A local detective hints she’s guilty, because she had access, because she was there. Now, she must chase down clues to prove her innocence.

Why does the top detective have it out for her? It’s the cold, naked hatred that confuses and scares Holly. She’ll need everyone in order to figure this one out.

Nothing could prepare her for the bombshell truth at the end...


COFFEE CAKE AND CLUES (Book 9)

Where is the best place to hide a body?

Holly makes that decision at the first murder mystery club at the library. She stages a crime scene and the audience tries to figure out the killer. Except, it doesn’t work out as planned.

Yes, another murder.

And this time, it’s more personal than ever.

Her friend, Katie, is one of the only suspects and all the clues lead to her guilt.

Will her sleuthing prove Katie’s innocence or put her in jail?


TIRAMISU AND TROUBLE (Book 10)

A fancy dinner party with murder on the menu.

Not just any murder. This time, the FBI is involved. Holly Hart learns that it might be connected to an ongoing serial killer investigation. It’s time to put her plan into action to help Trent.

But is this another copycat murder? Does that matter?

Chatting with one of the suspects, Holly stumbles upon key evidence. She does the one thing she swore she’d never do: bring the detective who hates her into the plan.

She has to trust the one person who hates her the most.
She has to betray the one person she loves the most.

It could be disastrous. It could be the worst mistake she’s ever made.